The four of us stood at the gate, and I knelt down to touch the silver ring. I said, “Oscailte.” The gate opened and together we fell into An Taobh Thiar Agus Níos Faide.
The glade looked much the same as it had the first time, except tonight there was a new moon cresting the horizon.
I called Midnight Dreary and she appeared after a few moments, soaring high above the trees. She dove like a hawk, pulling up at the last second. She lighted on a nearby branch and regarded us with sharp, shiny black eyes.
I said, “Show us the way to . . . what’s the place called again?”
“Ail Bán Dearg,” Erin said.
I pointed at Erin and said, “What she said.”
Midnight Dreary crowed, which technically may have been against raven protocol. I think she was laughing at me. Then she dutifully took wing and led us toward the Alder King’s castle.
We passed through groups of trees that I recognized, including the stand of willows where I had gotten my powers. Remembering that night made me feel queasy. We went on through the poplars and elms, and I marveled again at the cherry blossoms, which were still on the trees. The four of us didn’t have much to say, but the walk was pleasant.
I didn’t know if Max and Sandretta had different names here.
We arrived at a crossroads. To the right, a road led to the castle. It was the first time I’d had a chance to get a look at dad’s house. It was impressive. There was an actual drawbridge and a moat. The castle’s keep at the center was elaborate and very tall with multiple windows and balconies. Some of the balconies had long banners hanging beneath them. They had different artwork on them like colorful coats-of-arms, and I guessed it probably meant a duke or baron was currently in residence. In front of the keep was a bailey about the size of a football field, and also a gatehouse. The stone structures were impossibly clean and perfect, as if the castle had just been constructed and nothing had touched it yet to erode the edges or wear it down.
“It’s like opening day at a theme park,” I said.
Ahead, another road disappeared into the massive forest. The trees were towering and dense, and there were soft noises from within that still sounded dangerous. Like the purring of panthers.
To the left, the road climbed a short hill and that was where Midnight Dreary waited. We walked up the hill to find a wide circle of stones. There were thirty huge standing stones in the formation. Each one rose over twelve feet in height, and each had a different pattern carved into its face. The raven had landed on top of one and sat there shifting from foot to foot.
“Let’s rock!” I said.
“You’re more correct than you know,” Erin said. “These are called liagán, which are different from regular stones.”
She stepped up to the monolith under Midnight Dreary. When she pressed her hand against the pattern in the center of the stone, the familiar light flared and filled the pattern. Then the seams of a rectangle cracked open to reveal a portal.
Groovy.
“There are thousands of stone circles in An Taobh Thiar Agus Níos Faide,” Erin explained. “The circles usually connect to other circles nearest them, but it depends on the ley lines and which circles are close. The ley lines give power to the liagán so that anybody can use the stones for travel without expending their own will.”
Now I understood the need for a guide. Whether by experience or magic, Midnight Dreary could find her way anywhere in the realm. If this realm were as large as Erin said, it would take me years to understand and memorize all the places and routes. The idea of exploring this realm completely appealed to me, but I’d be lost in minutes without a guide.
Since we weren’t going to a different realm, the landscape on the other side of the portal was parallel to the ground on this side. Going through was like walking through a doorway instead of falling around a corner. We emerged from another liagán in a different circle where the air was noticeably cooler. We were near the top of a mountain. After all four of us, and Midnight Dreary, had passed through, the portal closed with a hum.
Erin put her hand on my shoulder and pointed to a lighted area of the forest in the distance. “There’s the King’s castle,” she said. We had just traveled about fifteen miles in an instant.
Cool.
Midnight Dreary picked a new liagán. We went through that one to another new circle and then through a third one to emerge near a lake with a delicate castle poised on top of a craggy peak. This castle was much smaller than the King’s, but it held an air of grandness about it nonetheless. It was constructed of marble with a natural pink tint. Floating lanterns in a riot of different colors were set above the crenelated walls, giving the structure a festive air.
Midnight Dreary flew up to the castle and circled it once before flying away.
“This must be Ail Bán Dearg,” Erin said.
The castle stood about two-hundred feet above the lake, but we didn’t need to climb to get up to it. There was door at the base of the cliff across the sandy shore of the lake. Once we stepped through, we found ourselves in the entryway of the castle itself. The door maintained a permanent gate from the shore to the castle proper.
We had barely arrived before our hostess was there to welcome us.
“Darlings!” Béil said.
She minced out and gave Erin a phony hug and kiss on the cheek. She was wearing a shimmery gold dress with a matching blouse that exposed her midriff. Her hair was teased out in wild loops that covered her whole back.
I stared at my wife instead. Always stare at the wife.
I got a phony hug and kiss as well and I was trying not to grimace. When I saw Erin looking at me with a bemused expression, I let the grimace out. She suppressed a smile with her hand over her mouth.
After that, Béil turned to Max and Sandretta and said, “Let me. Show you to. The kitchen. I’m afraid. You’ll have to. Clear the dust. Off. I almost never. Entertain.”
Apparently, my friends were here to work instead of relax, which annoyed me. On the other hand, they might be happier in the kitchen cooking instead of making small talk with strangers. I felt a bit jealous at that.
We surveyed the castle from the entryway. I was surprised to find it tastefully appointed. Not overdone or overloaded. The furnishings were simple and spare. In keeping with the scale of the building, the artworks on the walls were large but stylish. Besides the paintings, there were tapestries and a sculpture on a pedestal. There was plenty of space between the objects, lending a sense of open stillness and peace.
After a minute, Béil returned. Erin took my hand and we were led deeper into the tiger’s den.
The reception room was almost Egyptian in style. It featured a sunken area in the middle of the room and the central rectangle was surrounded by several columns that held up the roof. The roof was open above the central space, and the stars were bright against the velvet sky. Around the perimeter, behind the columns, were open hallways so people could navigate around the room without passing through the center. In the sunken space squatted roomy couches with silk cushions. Clusters of guests were deep in conversation.
There must have been fifty people here, and I didn’t know any of them.
There were a variety of hairstyles, although some of the swoops were unusual ears on second glance. A couple of guests had wings. One had hooves instead of feet.
A collection of ladies looked my way. I knew the woman with the dark hair flowing down to her ankles. She had been in the meat line on my first night in the Behindbeyond. I recognized the others as well. When the blonde flipped her hair over her shoulder I definitely remembered her. It took me a minute because tonight she had clothes on.
Around the sides of the room, built into the walls behind the pillars, were a modern bar and serving spaces with all sorts of finger foods.
“Mm! Shrimp!” Erin said.
“Mm! Pork rinds!”
I said.
Erin laughed, and I followed her to the snack bar. I didn’t mind watching her walk in that dress. When it came down to it, I didn’t actually take port rinds. The comment had made Erin laugh, but the shrimp looked too good to pass up.
We added some fruit and cheese to our plates and then went to the bar. The selection of things to drink was even more impressive.
“Mm, champagne!” I said.
“Mm, beer!” Erin said.
She liked making me laugh too.
We picked up two flutes of champagne and turned to find ourselves face-to-face with a roomful of people studiously trying to look at us without looking at us.
I leaned over and whispered to Erin, “Vulcan or Alderaan?”
“Hmm?” she replied.
“I’m trying to decide which planet we’re from because it feels like these people are capable of annihilation and they’re orbiting our home world. So, Vulcan or Alderaan?”
“Vulcan,” Erin said firmly. “The people of Alderaan never saw it coming. The people on Vulcan had time to realize they were doomed.”
“Well played, princess. Well played.”
Erin bumped me with her hip and hid her smile behind a sip of champagne.
Béil appeared from a hallway. “May I. Have your attention!”
Her smile was tight and strained as she spoke. “It’s time to. Adjourn to. The dining. Room.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Greim
There was a bottleneck at the entrance to the dining room. Whatever waited for us inside was unusual enough for everyone to pause at the threshold. Erin and I were the last to make it down the hallway so we were the last to see. The scene was definitely worth a stop.
The infamous Amad had crashed the party.
In this realm, I remembered, Amad was known as Caimiléir. Almost as shocking as his presence, Caimiléir was wearing blood-red armor. There was a helmet on the table, with bat wings and all the spikes an adolescent fanboy could ever want. The armor itself was the complete set, from greaves to breastplate to pauldrons. There were a lot of sharp angles and planes and edges to the armor, but Caimiléir wore it well.
Our collective shock clearly pleased him.
Béil tried to take it in stride. “Well. We are. All here. And dinner. Is waiting,” she said.
Caimiléir raised his hands in supplication. “My dear Béil. Please forgive my intrusion. I just assumed you had forgotten to send my invitation. But, judging by the looks on all your faces, I see I was simply not wanted.”
Béil refused to be drawn in to an argument or be made to feel sorry or intimidated. She stood with her hands on her hips and her chin up, and there was a torrent of fire in her eyes. She stopped short of asking Caimiléir to leave.
Caimiléir scanned the room and said, “Well, since we’re all here anyway, let’s have a little chat. Let’s begin with the happy couple for whom we are gathered.” Caimiléir limped in our direction and the crowd parted to let him through. Caimiléir stopped in front of Erin and she stood her ground. She didn’t cooperate nor did she resist as Caimiléir reached down and took her hand. He raised it to his lips and kissed it. I clenched my fists and Erin felt me stiffen. She reached over to touch me to let me know she was okay.
I still wanted to punch him in the face.
“Thou art quite lovely and I wish thee much happiness,” he said.
Erin nodded her head almost imperceptibly, but that was all the response she would give.
Caimiléir stepped to the side and addressed me next. “I wish thee a long and prosperous marriage,” he said.
I couldn’t help myself. “I thought you couldn’t lie,” I said, and I invested it with all the raw emotion I was feeling.
The temperature in the room dropped about twenty degrees.
Caimiléir leaned in so he could whisper his reply. “A wish can be anything,” he rasped.
He pulled away and I saw something lurking in his eyes. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but to me it resembled insanity.
“Now, a little surprise,” he said. “It’s not a wedding gift because I’m going to be keeping it for myself. But I can get one for you—any of you—if you would like one.” He indicated the open window at the far end of the room. “Greim! Tar anseo!”
Gasps of shock and cries of fear erupted from the guests as a small bestial deamhan scrambled over the window sill and hopped onto the table. Dishes scattered and goblets fell over and broke with a crash as his clawed feet shifted the heavy tablecloth. One wand came out and power sprang up from multiple hands, ready to strike. When it became apparent the little monster wasn’t going to attack, everyone held still, keeping wary.
The deamhan had four rows of eyes, and when it squalled it revealed a mouth filled with a series of jagged teeth. The sound of its voice was like broken glass scraping on wrongness. A pattern of Stain roiled under its skin. Its eyes blinked in unison and a forked tongue flicked out of its mouth, testing the air like a snake. I didn’t have a good recent history with snakes.
The deamhan looked at each of us in turn. As its gaze fell upon me, I felt a tremor of unreasoning fear—You are food! Be caught and slain! Cower now! Be prey!—but the feeling left me as soon as the deamhan looked away.
“Everyone, this is Greim,” Caimiléir said. “Greim, everyone.”
What was he expecting us to do? Shake hands and invite the thing to join us for dinner?
“Don’t worry. He’s completely harmless. As long as I want him to be.” Caimiléir produced a slab of raw meat and held it in front of Greim’s nose. The little deamhan’s tongue flicked out and in again but he held still. Caimiléir said, “Greim! Ithe!” The deamhan moved in a blur. There was the sound of snapping jaws and the meat vanished from Caimiléir’s fingers. Part of that sound included teeth on metal. The little monster’s bite had left scratches on Caimiléir’s gauntlet.
Having a small deamhan with razor-sharp claws and teeth would be sufficient reason to wear armor—but there was something else going on, I knew it. Why was Caimiléir dressed this way? And why had he made such a bold appearance with a Deamhan resident in tow?
I wasn’t the only one whose curiosity had been pricked. “Why art thou. And this creature. Interfering. With my. Dinner party?” Béil demanded.
“Ah, excellent question,” Caimiléir replied. “The reason is really two-fold. The second reason will become apparent following the first. We only need to wait.” Great. Cryptic comments from the crazy guy.
Caimiléir pulled a chair out from the table and sat down, his armor making metal sounds as their parts scraped against one another. Then there were shredding sounds as the exquisite upholstery of the chair was ripped by the armor plates. Greim curled up on the table by Caimiléir’s arm, sniffing the fingertips of his gauntlet for more meat. There was bread and wine at the table and Caimiléir helped himself, pouring the wine sloppily and staining the table cloth a bloody shade of purplish red. He ignored us after that.
The group didn’t know what to do. Nobody wanted to be rude and leave the room and nobody wanted to sit at the table with the lunatic. So we stood around awkwardly looking at each other for what seemed like the first millennium of a slow eternity.
Béil was understandably put out. She crossed her arms and stood by herself. I almost started to feel sorry for her again.
Though it felt like forever, only a few minutes passed before Caimiléir looked up from the bread crumbs on the table. “There!” he said. “The first reason for bringing Greim approaches!”
A moment later, I heard a double note from a horn sound in the distance followed by a heavy barrage of drums. It was the same call that had preceded the entrance of the Alder King a few days ago. Shortly thereafter, we heard the sound of hooves from a dozen horses.
The Alder King appeared at the end of the hall. He arrived alone, with no guard o
r retinue. Everyone in the room knelt and bowed their heads, including me, thanks to a quick grab of my arm by Erin. The King—father—was dressed simply, but was resplendent in a cloak and a doublet that bore our crest. His feet were shod with exquisitely-tooled leather riding boots and his crown sat on his head as if it had grown there.
As we knelt, I noticed how Caimiléir was the last person to touch the floor.
I looked up at the King and again felt a wave of charisma emanating from him like an intoxicating cloud.
“Rise,” the King said. “Please do continue with your repast. Caimiléir come with me. We have imposed upon these good folk unduly.”
“We’ll stay here, your majesty,” Caimiléir said, suicidally. “These good folk need to hear what we have to discuss.”
I looked at the King. A dark shadow fell over his visage and his eyes were bright with lightning and danger. He wasn’t accustomed to being countermanded. He looked sharply at Caimiléir and said, “Thou wast iron-scarred once before because thou lackest obedience, nephew. Is it time I gave thee another reminder?”
Caimiléir stood defiant and unmoving. Now I knew why he had the limp.
To Béil, the King said, “With thine indulgence, milady.”
Béil nodded.
The King returned the storm of his attention to Caimiléir and he pointed at the little deamhan. “Briefly then, knight. Begin with the reason thou hast for polluting my realm with this creature.”
I had a feeling we were now about to be treated with the second purpose for Greim’s presence. The first having been to bring the King out of his castle.
“Your majesty, I do feel ill at ease for my gaffe. I really do. I did not mean to offend any attending here. But thou hast refused to give me an audience and now, behold, here is an audience ready-made.”
The King sighed but there was anger there, not resignation. “Get on with it,” he replied.
Caimiléir clapped his hands together and the sound of metal striking metal was stunningly loud within the echoing walls of the room. The sudden gleam of eager delight in Caimiléir’s eyes was anything but reassuring. “Splendid! So what is the one problem that has been responsible for the decline of our people?”
Got Luck Page 22